


Dude, A Mermaid Stole My Car

by AU Mer-Maid (neonstardust)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Don't Let The Tags Fool You This Is Safe For Work, Gen, Kinktober 2019, Mermaid Yahaba Shigeru, Mild Blood, Mild Blood From A Small Injury Only Mentioned A Few Times, Wholesome Safe For Work Content In My Kinktober? Heck Yeah, Xenophilia, attempted theft, car theft, meet-cute without the cute, mermaid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-05 11:57:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21208160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonstardust/pseuds/AU%20Mer-Maid
Summary: "I apologize. I am going to be late for work," Shirabu says into the phone."Everything okay?" his boss asks."Yes." Shirabu looks at the person frantically attempting to steal his car. "Just... a flat tire."In which Yahaba is determined to set out on the adventure of a lifetime, and Shirabu just wants to keep his job.





	Dude, A Mermaid Stole My Car

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 27 - Prompt: Xenophilia

Shirabu leans back in the passenger seat. It’s dangerous being so close to him, but he keeps his face neutral, shoulders relaxed. “Are you ready to get out?”

“I’m ready for you to get out,” he says. Experimentally, he inches the steering wheel to the left.

“You can’t steal my car.”

His brows furrow together, and he turns to Shirabu in genuine confusion. “If you didn’t want it stolen, why didn’t you hide it?”

Shirabu looks straight through the windshield and contemplates the question. It’s a car. No one hides a car. But he does hide other valuables, like money and the keys to his car.

His gaze drops to the ignition. The covering has been torn open and the wires exposed. Somehow, this airhead managed to hotwire his car with a fork and a seashell. Maybe hiding it from now on isn’t such a bad idea.

“We don’t steal here,” Shirabu explains. “It’s bad, and you’ll get arrested.”

“Rest is good.”

“Arrested,” Shirabu corrects. “Put into jail. It’s not good.”

Confusion and wonder swirl in his eyes. “So strange.” He turns on the headlights. Reverently, he pushes the button for the windshield wipers.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Shirabu grabs his hand. His skin feels smooth beneath his touch, too smooth. His muscles tense, hard and powerful, but there’s a strange softness to him that makes Shirabu think he’s lighter than he looks. “I have to go to work.”

He swats Shirabu away. “Then go. I am taking your land boat to explore.”

“Just how do you plan to drive with _that_?”

His gaze drops to a turquoise tail curled up on the floor. Spines jut out, cutting into the seat. A long fin arcs upward. When he moves, it flops against the gear shift.

“... I’m still working that out.”

“You need feet to drive. Even if you didn’t, people would freak out when they see you.” Shirabu still doesn’t know if he should be freaking out or not. When a snake blocked off his car, he pushed it away with a large stick. When a cat clawed her way into the hood, he spent a good hour pulling her before sending her off to the animal shelter. He almost feels like handling a mermaid should be similar, like he can just scoop him up and drop him off anywhere, but long claws tip off each of his fingers, keeping Shirabu at bay.

He smiles, his teeth sharp and feral. “They won’t see my tail when I’m in your land boat.”

“It’s a car.” Shirabu pinches the bridge of his nose. At this rate, he’ll never get to work. It’s already bad enough he’ll have to take the bus until he can get his ignition repaired, but if he leaves him alone, there’s no telling what other damage he’ll do.

“We use cars to get from one place to another, and then we get out,” Shirabu says. “You can’t stay in here the whole time. People will get suspicious.”

Wilting, he sinks back into the driver’s seat. The turquoise of his tail seems to fade, becoming a colorless silver. “Damn it to hell.”

Shirabu quirks an eyebrow. “You can curse, but you don’t know what a car is?”

A hint of color returns to his face, and he puffs out his chest. “I learned lots of human words from the sailors. They speak very passionately.” Grabbing his bag off the floor, he pulls out a book-shaped object, but instead of paper, it’s filled with glistening brown sheets, like thin oyster shells. “See?” He holds it up to display a page full of writing in an alphabet Shirabu has never seen before. The letters dip and swirl like English, but only one or two characters make up each word, almost like a form of kanji.

If it’s a book full of sailors cursing each other out, Shirabu doesn’t want to know what it says. “Why are you here?”

“I am—” He cuts himself off, slapping a hand over his mouth. A blush burns across his cheek bones, and his tail lashes into a flustered purple. “I’m still working on a name,” he mumbles behind his fingers.

Shirabu didn’t ask for his name, but an idea hits him. Getting out of the car, he walks around to the driver’s side and opens the door.

“What are you doing?”

Reaching inside, Shirabu scoops him up. He’s heavy. His tail is heaviest, and it’s longer than Shirabu thought, draging along the ground. His spines cut Shirabu’s arm.

“Stop!” His arms latch around Shirabu’s neck for dear life. “Let me go,” he demands, but he curls his tail around Shirabu’s legs.

“You have two options,” Shirabu says. Hoisting him up higher, he shuffles away from the car before he can dive back inside of it. “You can wait in the ocean or the bathtub.”

His heart hammers against Shirabu’s chest, but he relaxes, pulling back to meet Shirabu’s gaze. “Bathtub?”

“I’d rather throw you in the ocean,” Shirabu sighs. “But I get the feeling you’d just come back.” He glances at the disturbed ground from where he must have dragged himself from the shore to Shirabu’s car.

“What’s a bathtub?” he asks. His eyes sparkle like sea glass. “What do you use it for? Do all humans have one?”

Stepping onto the porch, Shirabu struggles to open the door. “You said you were working on a name.”

“I decided on Shigeru,” he says. “But the sailors have multiple names. I believe humans collect them as signs of achievement.”

Shirabu decides to ignore that last part. “I’ll help you pick out a last name if you let me get to work.” Blood makes his fingers slippery, but he manages to twist the handle and pop the door open.

Shigeru’s jaw drops. His gaze starts at the hardwood floor, drifting up the walls, taking in the photos and furniture. As Shirabu steps through the entryway, he reaches out a timid hand to caress a nearby table. “It’s beautiful.”

“Right.” Hooking the handle with his elbow, he yanks the door shut, narrowly missing Shigeru’s fin.

“You have a lovely bathtub,” he says.

“This is a house.” As he walks, he says, “The kitchen’s up ahead.”

“Kitten?”

“That’s the living room.”

“Is there a dead room?”

“No.” He tries to keep walking, but Shigeru latches onto the coat rack.

“What does this do?” he asks.

“It holds stuff. Let go. You’re heavy.” His arms burn. Readjusting his grip on him, Shirabu hurries to the bathroom and dumps him unceremoniously into the bathtub.

“Ah, cold!” He flips onto his stomach, his tail hanging out over the edge of the tub.

Stepping back, Shirabu looks him over more closely. The scales on the back of his tail are darker, turning almost deep blue near where Shirabu assumes his spine must be. The scales break up around his hips, but a fin continues up his back, disappearing at his shoulder blades.

Shigeru rolls onto his back, his fin flattening down, and he shimmies his way up the side of the tub until he’s sitting up, arms crossed over his chest. “I do not like the bathtub.”

“Oh?” Shirabu turns the water on.

Shigeru gasps. In an instant, he flips around and slides beneath the faucet, letting the water rain down his head and shoulders.

Shirabu kneels. “You can stay here if you don’t flood my bathroom.”

Shigeru’s eyes widen. “The bathroom is a room that holds a bathtub. So, the living room must hold the living-tub.”

“Uhh, close.” He hands Shigeru a rubber duck, and he squeals in delight. “I’m going to work now. I’ll help you with a name when I get home, and then you can go back to wherever you came from.”

Shigeru clutches the duck protectively to his chest. “I’m not going back.”

“You can’t live in my bathtub.”

“No.” Sitting up straighter, he manages to curl most of his tail into the tub. “I am Shigeru, other names to be determined. I am an explorer. The ocean holds nothing for me, and you cannot make me go back.”

Shirabu blinks. “Have you been rehearsing that?”

“... Yes.” As the water level rises, Shigeru slips down lower, letting it cover up his face. Bubbles rise to the surface. Leaning in close, Shirabu spots a pair of gills on either side of his neck. From the waist up, his skin had seemed human before, but now it glows with a faint iridescence that draws Shirabu in closer, his hand dipping into the water to touch him.

Shigeru bumps his head against Shirabu’s hand like a cat, and Shirabu slides his fingers through his hair. A slender, pointed ear comes into view. As he resurfaces, he presses his hand on top of Shirabu’s, holding him firmly in place.

A storm of questions brews in Shirabu’s mind. Does he have a family? How long can he stay out of water? Where did he come from, and why of all people did he choose Shirabu to carjack?

“I love adventure,” Shigeru says. “There’s so much to learn about here. I want to see your cities, try your food, learn your language.” He brings Shirabu’s hand down to cup his cheek. “You’re warm and full of life. Nothing in the ocean is like this.”

“The ocean is beautiful,” Shirabu argues.

“But there’s no sky. I want to live where it’s warm. Where there are bathtubs and buildings and new things to discover. I want to live in a world where people don’t steal just because it’s bad.”

“People still steal here.”

Shigeru smiles. “Then I’ll learn about that, too.” Releasing Shirabu, he runs his hand over the cold-water value. “You even have warm water during winter.”

“Actually—”

He turns the value. Cold water hits him, and he leaps back. Water splashes across the floor.

Shirabu turns both values off. He taps the one on the right. “This is hot.” Pointing to the left one, he says, “That’s cold.”

Shigeru glares, only the top of his head poking out above the surface. He slaps the cold valve with his tail fin.

Shaking his head, Shirabu moves his soap and shampoo out of Shigeru’s reach. He doesn’t know if they could hurt him, and, more importantly, he doesn’t want to come home to empty bottles and a room overflowing with suds.

“You can’t go exploring,” Shirabu says. Shigeru glares, his tail lashing, but he continues, “At best, I can drive you around town. You won’t be able to get out of the car, and you can’t ask a million question either or people will think something is up.”

Shigeru rests his arms on the side of the tub. “But you’ll take me exploring?”

“You broke my car. I can’t take you anywhere until it’s fixed.”

“But,” he presses on, “you’ll take me exploring? After the car's fixed.”

Shirabu sighs. He would have gladly kept the cat that crawled into the car’s hood if he’d known the alternative was a fish with the mind of a toddler. “Yes. _If_ you can behave yourself.”

“I will be-cave.”

“Behave,” Shirabu corrects.

“That too.” Shigeru reaches out and touches Shirabu’s knee. “Thank you.”

Shirabu shrugs. “You’re welcome, or whatever.”

“There is a seahorse tail in my bag,” he says solemnly. “Please accept it as a sign of my gratitude.”

Walking out of the bathroom, Shirabu pretends he did not hear that.


End file.
